


Shot Through The Heart

by CourierNinetyTwo



Category: RWBY
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-15
Updated: 2014-06-15
Packaged: 2018-02-04 19:05:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1789873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CourierNinetyTwo/pseuds/CourierNinetyTwo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a long day at work, Blake and Yang decide to unwind with the help of some tequila. Set in Future AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shot Through The Heart

It started with a text.

_Free tonight?_

Yang smiled down at her scroll, thumb hovering over the projected keyboard. There was only two reasons Blake ever messaged her while one or both of them were at work; either there was an emergency or the Faunus was waving a giant red flag announcing she wanted to get laid. Considering that it was just after lunch and that left a good five hours until Blake had an excuse to cut out early from Schnee headquarters, her partner had to have it bad.

Bringing up the calendar application, Yang flipped forward a couple of weeks. Several days were blocked out in red, marking when Blake’s heat was likely to kick in, but it usually wasn’t off by more than a few in either direction, so that wasn’t it. Weiss kept the schedule updated in real time, making it so birthdays and Ruby’s homecomings didn’t get missed or double-booked, but this evening was surprisingly blank and Yang wasn’t going to let that sort of rare opportunity go to waste. She tabbed back over to the message, biting at the edge of her thumb for a moment while thinking how to word her answer. This could be fun.

_Maybe. Have some big plans, Belladonna?_

A set of red-haired twins came up to the bar and flashed their IDs, swapping a couple folded bills for a pitcher of beer. Yang dropped the extra Lien into the tip jar when they refused the change, eyes scanning around the lounge to make sure that no one was getting themselves into trouble. This early in the day, most customers were in for lunch or to watch the pay-per-view tournaments she kept running on the big screens overhead, but every once and a while there was someone who thought two in the afternoon was a great time to binge drink themselves all the way to the wrong side of her patience and had to be chucked out onto the street.

Her scroll chimed and Yang glanced back down, a brow raising as she read the response.

_A few. Most of them involve you bent over the front counter._

Blake was adorable when she was frisky, although Yang was rather curious what had put the Faunus in such a mood. It had been a while since they managed to square away any alone time, mostly due to Weiss having to do her yearly quarry inspections all over Vale and requiring her bodyguard in tow. The one day Blake was free after that, Yang found herself swamped with an airship full of tourists from Mistral who had nearly drank through her entire cabinet and didn’t stagger out until last call. Considering that Weiss got to curl up to Tall, Dark, and Feline all the time, there wasn’t any reason to feel bad about being a bit selfish tonight.

_Seems like you’ve got a lot of tension to work out, babe. Here’s a pick-me-up until you can slip the leash._

She tilted the scroll up until it was level with her chest, holding down the button for the camera until it clicked. For a blind shot, Yang didn’t think it was bad at all, showing most of her cleavage and the very edge of the ribbon that was always tied around her neck. A couple more taps on the screen attached the image, sending it off with the text. It was just ten seconds later that there was another message chime, so fast that Yang was briefly worried the picture might have bounced back.

_I’m in a meeting, damn it._

Yang rolled her eyes, unable to keep from laughing as she typed back. The image of Blake trying to angle her scroll away from the rest of the room and not blush was well worth the risk that some stuffed suits might have gotten a split second glance at her rack. It wasn’t like she didn’t have everything out on display at the moment, anyway.

_You send me a booty call and then complain when I bite? Real smooth, partner._

That was practically asking for something grumpy in return, maybe a touch of sass, since Blake usually took to teasing with a biting wit. Reminding herself that she technically still had a bar to run, Yang picked up one of the glasses crowding the sink, washing it off before polishing it to a shine. If today was going to stay slow, at least she could have the bar sparkling before the weekend came around and left it a sticky mess again. Three glasses later, she heard the chime again.

_I’ve been thinking about stripping you out of that corset all day._

Letting the rag in her hand fall back onto the counter, Yang looked around the room. No one was paying a damn bit of attention to what she was doing behind the bar, which was exactly what she wanted. This time she angled the scroll towards her hips, although it took a couple tries to get the picture how she liked; showing just enough tan, muscled thigh to whet Blake’s appetite while still showing her fingers toying with the top of her shorts, as if she was about to tug them off. There was a bit of her glove in there too, since fingerless or not, Yang knew the Faunus had a thing for leather.

_And how about these?_

She propped the scroll back up and returned to her polishing, but the instant reply from before didn’t come. Yang’s mouth quirked into a smile as she scrubbed the inside of a shot glass; either she had shorted something out in Blake’s brain or Weiss had gotten an eyeful of what her head of security was doing to pass the time in a meeting. It wasn’t until the rack above her head was entirely restocked and the counter was buffed well enough to offer back a reflection that she heard another chime, although the tone was different than the one for texts.

An audio message. Yang double-checked the sender, watching as the portrait she had set for Blake’s number pop up. The picture was cropped from a group shot from a birthday party the year before, celebrated at the Lounge with a very private circle of guests. Blake wasn’t even looking at the flash, attention drawn somewhere to her left, but the Faunus’ white teeth shone in a wicked smile, the knot of her tie pulled loose enough to reveal a bite mark from someone’s eager attentions, lipstick smeared across the lapel of a white dress shirt. That night had been worth the weekend-long hangover, by far.

Her finger hovered over the play button for a moment before Yang thought better of it and dialed down the volume on her scroll. She had a set of headphones somewhere, but there wasn’t anywhere to store them behind the bar that was safe from whiskey spills, broken glass, or the knife she wielded on the regular to chop fruit. At least dropped to the bottom setting, anyone trying to eavesdrop from the tables wouldn’t be able to hear whatever Blake was so intent to say.

“I hope you plan on closing early tonight, Yang, or I’ll make sure your customers get one hell of a show.”

The low, familiar purr that infiltrated every word sent a jolt straight between Yang’s thighs. She could only imagine Blake riled and tense, stalking back to her office and shoving the door closed before making the recording. Perfect.

_Count on it, kit._

Yang didn’t bother to specify which of the two options she was agreeing to, hoping the ambiguity would pour a bit more fuel on the fire. While they didn’t do that whole whip-and-handcuffs routine Blake liked to indulge in with Weiss, she loved it when aggression broke through that steady reserve, promising bruises and weak knees before the night was over. A quick check of the time made Yang groan; it would still be a couple of hours at best, even if the Faunus wasn’t pulled into some last minute meeting or prayer circle or whatever the hell Weiss came up with to make sure this quarter’s profits broke another record.

With the Lounge determined to stay boring but not empty, she thought about inviting Ruby over to hang out until Blake was free, but finally decided against it. As easily as her sister sprang back to her feet, Yang knew Ruby’s last hunt had been nothing short of exhausting, not to mention in a village that hadn’t caught up to the modern luxuries of water that didn’t freeze out of the tap or beds made out of something more than straw; she could use every hour of sleep she could get, especially if Weiss was going home alone tonight.

Unhappy with her hands staying idle, Yang turned around to look at the wall of bottles, arranged as haphazardly as her sock drawer. She had tried to have a system when the Lounge first opened, grouping the liquor together by brand or color, but all it took was one world tournament viewing night to wreck any semblance of order; the fact that everything still had its corks and caps was a miracle in itself, really. Lilac eyes flickered from label to label, trying it figure out what would set the mood. Wine wouldn’t have enough of a punch and the strawberry vodka only really tasted good in a cocktail—

“Oh, hello there.” Yang said, popping up on her toes to snag a bottle from the very top shelf.

Thick glass and a black seal imprinted with  _110_  housed a golden tequila that had never been opened, lacking any company name or date on the front. Turning the bottle over carefully, Yang squinted to read the stamp on the bottom —  _Dragon’s Breath, Brewed In Vale_ — and tried to remember when the hell she had bought it. Most of the alcohol she stocked was fairly cheap; she had to make a profit and didn’t want to bankrupt the customers who came in from the quarries and other 9-to-9 grinds, saving the really good liquor for personal occasions and the unique drinks only the Lounge served. It must have been a present.

Cracking open the seal, Yang couldn’t help but recoil after she took a quick whiff. The number had to have been the proof, which meant it would kick like a raging Ursa. Certainly not as bad as the Nevermore vodka she saved for twenty-first birthdays — named not only for the Grimm, but what almost everyone said after taking a swig — but the tequila seemed like a perfect party starter.

She set the bottle down next to the sink and dropped to one knee, opening the fridge under the counter and peering inside. A bag of limes caught her attention and Yang put that on the counter too before closing the door, finger tapping gently against her mouth as she tried to remember where the final piece had gone. Rifling through the nearby drawers turned up a couple sets of confiscated keys that had never been taken back, a pile of fake IDs, and some extra ammo for Ember Celica, but it wasn’t until the last one that her favorite salt shaker turned up, made especially for body shots. The lid was made so too much couldn’t be spilled at once, whether by drunk or excited hands, but it didn’t have that weird grindy bit that got confusing as soon as a good buzz became full-on intoxication.

It only took a few minutes to chop the limes into thick slices, enough for a solid bite, and Yang arranged them in a bowl before tucking it back into the fridge. As soon as the shaker was filled to the top and accompanying the tequila, she rolled her shoulders back and stretched, glad she could drum up something new to try. Sex with Blake was never anything but a damn good time, but that didn’t mean Yang couldn’t rattle the cage once in a while. Besides, the Faunus had a mouth to die for, and anything that put it to use was well worth the prep time.

Hearing a familiar name from the television drew Yang’s attention up to the screen, grinning the moment she saw Pyrrha stride across the tournament green in high definition glory. The huntress only competed in showcase matches these days, donating her winnings to charity rather than trying to climb the rankings, but Yang didn’t have a single doubt that Pyrrha could wipe the floor with the world champ and still have the energy to clean out a Deathstalker nest. She fumbled for the master remote and turned the volume up, watching as the challenger took his position, wielding a massive spiked chain that could change length at will.

“You’re about to get a taste of Nikos thunder, asshole.” Yang muttered.

The first bout was over in less than a minute when Pyrrha’s opponent took the bait offered up by Akoúo̱, wrapping one end of the chain around the shield to try and strip it off her arm. A whoop left Yang’s mouth when Pyrrha turned on her heel and disarmed him completely, using the momentum of the shift to propel Miló so hard that the impact of the spear lifted the man off his feet, armor and all, and sent him flying into the far side of the arena. Even though his weapon being kindly returned a moment later, every camera focused on the plaintive shock written across his face a bit longer than they had to before redirecting their attention to Pyrrha, who was smiling and waving out to the crowd.

Despite the competition being almost shamefully one-sided, tournaments still had commercial breaks and interviews in between rounds, so by the time Pyrrha was collecting a car-sized check stretched wide with zeroes, it was past sunset. Yang couldn’t stop her knee from bouncing underneath the counter as she checked the time yet again; a couple of tall, dark-haired customers had already gotten her hopes up, and while they had both been pretty hot, neither of them were Blake. She was five minutes away from setting up a line of flaming whiskey shots to entertain herself when a silhouette she’d know plastered and half-blind came into the corner of her vision.

A couple of quick steps brought her out from around the bar and Yang swore she saw double for a moment before the Faunus’ mouth crashed into hers, using far too much tongue and teeth, but she didn’t frankly care. Grabbing the front of Blake’s trenchcoat, she dragged their bodies together, holding the kiss until they were both gasping against one another, the burn in her lungs nothing compared to the pulse of heat between her legs, threatening to set her blood alight when Blake’s hands slipped down to the curve of her ass and roughly squeezed.

“Slow down, spitfire.” Yang murmured against the Faunus’ lips. “Give me two minutes.”

“I’m counting.” Blake growled.

Thankfully there was only one customer currently in the bar, a rabbit-eared Faunus who was one of her regulars. He seemed entirely oblivious to their display, finishing off a pint while watching a recap of the day’s fights. She hated to interrupt him after what had to be a long day at the docks, but Yang was also pretty sure Blake hadn’t been kidding about the showing off part if the Lounge didn’t cut off business early.

“Hey, Peter,” she waited until he glanced at her, a thick grey brow raising in faint recognition of where Blake’s hands still were, “I have to call a blackout tonight, okay? Bar’s closed. Have a free Midnight Kiss on me when you come in tomorrow.”

“Never gonna turn down a free drink.” Peter shrugged and took one last sip of his beer before setting the mug on the table and getting up from his seat. “Later, Yang.”

“Flip the sign on your way out?” She asked once he had his hand on the pushbar.

Peter gave an absent wave of his hand. “You bet.”

Yang smiled as soon as the door clicked shut. “He’s a saint.”

“Well, he is a Faunus.” Blake quipped, golden eyes bright with hunger.

“You are just boiling over tonight, huh?” Another kiss silenced Blake’s murmur of agreement, although the sound became a protest when Yang’s hands covered hers and drew them away. “I made a change in your plans.”

“Oh?”

Reaching over the bar was a bit awkward but Yang managed it, holding up the tequila with a grin of triumph. “You’re going to do shots off me until you forget ‘stress’ is even a word.”

Blake frowned, although it seemed more like curiosity than displeasure. “Off you?”

“Abs, rack, wherever you like.” Yang tilted the bottle up to her lips and took a quick sip. Strong as it was, the taste went down smooth and settled warmly in the pit of her stomach. “It’s great stuff, too. Damn.”

A few seconds passed before all the pieces fell together, but the look on Blake’s face was even better than she had imagined. “I love you.”

Yang laughed. “Thought so. Go over by the couch and I’ll bring everything. Lose the coat.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Blake’s smile matched her own as the Faunus withdrew, undoing the buckle holding the trenchcoat closed.

“Is that actually a thing?” Yang asked, nestling the salt shaker into the bowl of limes.

“Is what a thing?” The question came from further away as Blake tossed her coat over the back of the couch and peeled off her dark gloves.

“I don’t know, people who get off on telling people to drink alcohol off their bodies and stuff. Sounds kind of like a power trip, now that I’m saying it.”

“Leaving out the fact that last time I tried to explain kink and why I liked tying people up, you choked on your beer and turned redder than Ruby’s cloak,” Blake collapsed against against the cushions in a blatant sprawl, “yeah, there’s probably someone out there who’s into that.”

“Hey, I respect the fact that you want to gag Weiss, okay? I’m pretty sure that everyone has wanted to do that at some point.” Yang set the limes and salt on the table in front of the couch, making sure they were in easy reach before she poured a perfect shot into the glass she had chosen, not spilling a drop. “I just don’t get the sit down, shut up, and do what I tell you part.”

The Faunus shrugged. “Well, you  _are_  going to have to tell me how this works, otherwise you’re probably just going to get your bra soaked with tequila.”

“I know we went to school together so it’s partially my fault for not celebrating graduation this way, but the fact that you haven’t done body shots before is a travesty.” As soon as the glass was taken from her hand, Yang picked up one of the lime wedges. “So how it works is that you get to put that salt wherever you want, lick it off me, knock back your shot, and then bite the lime out of my mouth. That’s the easy way.”

“There’s a harder way?” Blake’s brow knit.

“We’ll get to it.” Tucking the rind of the lime between her teeth, Yang shrugged off her jacket and settled against the couch. She could strip the rest of the way when things turned wild, but Blake had plenty of access with her abs bared and her top stopping only halfway up her chest; it would encourage both of them to get creative.

After a moment of consideration, Blake picked up the shaker and leaned over. The first hot stroke of her tongue over one breast forced Yang to swallow a groan, realizing a bit late that this would be as much a tease for her as it was for the Faunus. Another swipe of Blake’s tongue lapped away a line of salt before she pulled back and downed the tequila in one quick gulp, clearing her throat a second later.

“That’s definitely got a punch.”

Yang could only hum in agreement until Blake came for the lime, amusement shining in those golden eyes before she bit the wedge out of her mouth and swallowed the fruit, tossing the rind back into the bowl.

“Alright, so that’s the easy way.” Refilling the shot with a quick pour, Blake cursed under her breath as a bit of the liquor dripped down the side of her glass and offered Yang an apologetic look. She didn’t care; the floor was going to get mopped later anyway. “What’s a harder way?”

“Getting right into the swing of things, mm?” Yang stole the bottle from the Faunus’ hand and took a long swig. There was no way she was going to let herself be stone cold sober while Blake sprinted down Tequila Lane. “Give me the shot glass too.”

As soon as it was handed over, Yang straightened up, making sure her shoulders were angled back before placing the glass right in her cleavage. The pressure of her tits on either side and the edge of her top meant it would probably stay in place if there was any jostling, but the last thing Yang wanted was for Blake to end up wheezing tequila because it went straight up her partner’s nose.

“Now you do the same thing, but you have to drink from here.” Yang’s eyes dropped pointedly to her chest. “No help from your hands. That’s cheating.”

“I can see why this is popular.” Blake smirked, picking up another slice of lime and offering it up. As soon as Yang’s teeth caught on the edge, she let go and rattled the salt shaker with a smile. “Pretty sure you’d double your business if customers got their liquor served out of your top all the time.”

Unable to snap back with anything but muffled syllables, Yang settled for rolling her eyes. Not that she could stay irritated when Blake’s mouth was suddenly back against her skin, licking away the salt before offering the graze of teeth and roughly sucking at the curve of one breast. She drew in a sharp breath, jaw tightening and making a bit of the lime drip onto her tongue, countering the smooth burn of the tequila she’d downed a moment ago. Blake’s lips found the rim of the glass, amber eyes locking with hers as the Faunus’ head subtly tilted back, drinking the shot slowly but without spilling any of it.

A kiss was pressed to both of Yang’s cheeks before Blake reclaimed the wedge of lime, some of the juice trickling down her chin as she bit down. With her mouth free, Yang leaned forward to clean it up, the first pass of her tongue quickly turning into a heated kiss when the Faunus shifted to reciprocate, only breaking apart to take another gulp of the tequila. Blake’s purr was a low rumble, darkly satisfied.

“That wasn’t hard at all.” Blake said wryly, watching as Yang plucked the glass out of her top to fill it all over again. “I’m kind of disappointed.”

“It was just one step up.” When the Faunus reached for the tequila, Yang moved it out of reach, mouth quirking in a smile. “Two shots and you think you’re a pro.”

One dark brow arched. “I’m incredibly professional, thank you.”

“You’re also drinking fifty-five percent alcohol out of my tits and I know you’re not used to shit this strong.” Settling back against the cushions again, Yang parted her knees wide. “Now get between my legs.”

Blake blinked. “That escalated quickly. Not that I’m complaining.”

Luckily there was a rug in front of the couch, making it more comfortable to kneel there than on the bare wooden floor. As soon as Blake settled on her knees, Yang reached over to grab a handful of the limes and promptly dropped them into her cleavage, snorting at the look of confusion that took over the Faunus’ face.

“You want to make it complicated, I’m going to go all the way, babe. Means I need my mouth free to explain.” With the bottle in one hand and the glass in the other, she had to gesture with the latter, starting at the top of the window baring her abs and going down to her bellybutton. “Lick from here to here and pour the salt.”

“That’s a lot of salt.” Blake said.

“You’re going to be drinking more than one shot to lap it up, kit.” Lilac eyes grew bright with a challenge. “Unless it’s too much for you.”

There was a soft growl in response, the sound going straight up Yang’s spine. “Hardly.”

As soon as her hands were out of the way, Blake placed a kiss against her stomach. It was light, barely a brush of lips, but enough to make the muscle under the Faunus’ mouth go taut as she flexed. Yang moaned at the first teasing dart of Blake’s tongue, unable to look away as hot, wet lines were drawn along her skin, special attention paid to the grooves between her abs until there was a possessive nip, the brief snap of teeth.

“Ah, you’re getting distracted.” Yang chided, taking another quick sip of the tequila to ease the sudden dryness in her throat. “Get the salt on there.”

The shaker wasn’t very big in the first place, made so it could be tucked into a pocket or pouch, so she wasn’t really surprised that Blake emptied the entire thing out, the tiny granules sticking to her skin everywhere she had been licked.

“Now you have to get a little lower.” Yang gestured with the shot glass. “‘Cause I’m going to pour this down my stomach and a pro isn’t going to let a drop go to waste. Soon as it’s gone, take a lime and we’ll go again.”

Golden eyes went wide, but the shock was chased with raw lust before Blake pressed a kiss to her belt buckle, lips parted in anticipation. Angling the shot so it poured slow was a little tricky, but Yang had served entire parties three sheets to the wind without screwing up a single order; her hands wouldn’t fail her now. The tequila was cold against her skin as it trailed in dribs and drabs down her abs, cutting right through the salt. Blake’s mouth was there in an instant, alternating between sucking and licking to keep any of the liquor from soaking into her shorts. By the time the glass was empty, Yang was gasping, most of her stomach shining slick.

Regaining a shred of her focus, she filled the glass again. “Got me all wet, babe.”

“You mean you weren’t before?” Blake teased, rising up to capture one of the limes from her top.

As soon as the Faunus’ teeth sank into the wedge, Yang felt more of the juice trickle onto her breasts, a laugh bubbling up in her throat when Blake turned and spat out the remainder towards the bowl, managing to aim it perfectly. They were both definitely running hot, but it took a lot to put a damper on her partner’s skill.

“Good for the next one?” Yang asked. “We’re fucking in the shower, by the way, or this is going to be awful in the morning.”

“Works for me.” Blake said, nuzzling against her buckle to signal she was ready.

She could have gone slow again, patiently angled the tequila towards the Faunus’ waiting mouth, but where was the fun in that? A flick of Yang’s wrist emptied the shot in one go, sending it splashing all over her stomach. As soon as Blake started to lick her clean, long and luxurious laps mixed with quick flutters of that god-sent tongue, she let the glass fall onto the couch, needing that hand free to slide into dark curls. Yang’s fingers tangled through the long locks, giving Blake’s hair an affectionate tug before her attention shifted to purple-lined ears, stroking the velvety back of each one as another moan spilled from her mouth.

The lines of salt were long gone, but that didn’t seem to matter as Blake worshipped her skin, refusing to let a single bare inch go untouched. When both of the Faunus’ hands gripped her thighs, trying to spread them wider, Yang pulled upward, keeping a firm grip on that slicked-back hair until golden eyes flickered up to meet hers.

“Forgot what stress means yet?”

“I think I did by the second shot.” Blake laughed, the sound cut off as soon as Yang dragged her into a deep kiss, biting playfully after her tongue swiped away a couple stray grains of salt.

“Then we’re going upstairs.” Her hand relaxed so both of them could stand, although she didn’t relinquish her hold on the tequila bottle. Just because they weren’t doing it formal-style anymore didn’t mean they had to quit drinking.

Their path up the steps was interrupted by quickly exchanged kisses and their arms around each other’s waists, not to mention Yang tipping the bottle up to Blake’s mouth after each time she took a sip herself. Laughter echoed up to the rafters as the bedroom door was shoved open, fading to a bit of muttering as they kicked their shoes off and made a joint stumble towards the bathroom.

Yang set the tequila by the sink and reached for the knot of Blake’s tie, cursing as her fingers slipped until she managed to work them under the silk, tossing it onto the floor before wrenching the Faunus’ dress shirt open, hearing polished buttons bounce and clink when they went flying. It wasn’t like Blake didn’t have a drawer here full of spares anyway. She could breathe a little easier the moment the zipper at her back was yanked down, the top stripped away and abandoned on a steadily growing pile of clothes. Her bra was next — even if it had to be strapless, Yang had learned a long time ago she needed plenty of support — and Blake didn’t waste any time moving to her belt.

Once shorts and trousers hit the tile, she had to pause to laugh, resting one hand on Blake’s shoulder to keep steady. “We  _both_  wore black lace today?”

“Would have worn boxers if I thought you were in the mood for the strap-on.” The Faunus muttered, entirely occupied with trying to get Yang’s panties off.

“Wasn’t a complaint, kit, trust me.” She reached back for the bottle as soon as they were naked, pushing down on Blake’s shoulder with her other hand. “Mm, sit on the edge there.”

The ledge of the tub was only an inch or so wide, but with both feet planted on the floor, Blake kept her balance, turning just enough to get the water running and flip the faucet from filling the bath to raining down from the spray overhead. It was going to get everywhere until they yanked the curtain shut, but it was only water. Yang dropped to one knee, offering a million-watt grin with mischief burning bright in violet eyes.

“Put your legs together.” Seeing some confusion, she emphasized with the tequila. “As much as you can.”

“Not what I thought I’d be hearing.” Blake said, but did as she asked.

The Faunus let out an undignified yelp as Yang tilted the bottle, pouring the liquor directly into the triangle that formed between dark curls and her thighs pressed tightly together, although the shock faded into a shiver as soon as the blonde leaned forward, drinking from the makeshift cup until all the tequila was gone. After licking away a few absent drops, Yang pressed a kiss just below the scar that cut a rugged line across Blake’s stomach, only looking up when she heard an affectionate purr rumble from above her.

“Should I even ask how long you’ve wanted to try that?” Blake cupped her cheek before her thumb wiped away the lingering wetness on her chin.

Yang set the bottle out of the way, offering a shrug and a smile. “You can blame Ruby. She put on this documentary about off-the-wall sex stuff when she was over last time. Pretty sure she made a list of things to try out on Weiss too.”

“I’ll make sure to repay her the favor later.” Blake said, managing to stand before stepping under the spray of the shower. “Get in here.”

As soon as the curtain was drawn closed most of the way, Yang was pulled into a deep kiss, back arching as nails raked across her shoulder blades. The faint sting barely registered as pain, but it was enough for her to be reminded that Blake’s gloves were gone.

“Did you file those before you got here, babe?” She asked, kissing down to the pulse in the Faunus’ throat and nipping lightly with her teeth.

“Yeah.” Blake gasped the word, tilting her head to allow Yang even more access.

“Okay.” Her hands slid down wet, taut muscle to cup Blake’s ass and squeeze, fingers gripping tighter until she got the whimper she was looking for. “Not that I mind the big cat claw look, but I kind of wanted your fingers in me.”

The Faunus purred before roughly palming one of her breasts. “Only kind of?”

“Just fuck me, you tease.” Yang groaned.

Blake’s laugh was a low, pleased rumble. “Going to make a top out of you yet, Yang.”

Even if she had wanted to argue, words failed her the moment a pair of fingers parted her folds and thrust inside, working up to a quick rhythm. The Faunus was usually cautious, deliberate, but this time her pace was sloppy and eager and Yang wanted nothing more than to return the favor. One hand left the comfortable perch of Blake’s ass to slide between lithe thighs, moaning as soon as she made contact with slick heat, starting with two fingers but quickly moving up to three.

“I think,” Blake gulped down a breath, thumb centering on her clit, “we might be too far gone to come together.”

Yang’s fingers curved, seeking out a particular spot. “Worth a shot, though, yeah?”

Tequila and pent-up longing made for a heady cocktail, powerful enough to make her use more force than she usually dared. It wasn’t like she thought Blake would break; they knew each other inside and out with hands, mouth, toys, even that one time with the Dust, but she had always been the strongest and the thought of being too rough with her partner, her  _first_  — it was hard to believe it had been so many years since then — was something she couldn’t bear. The tension between Yang’s thighs grew with each jagged spike of pleasure, rocking forward to take Blake’s fingers as deep as they could go, every uneven swipe over her clit making her clench tight and nearly forget to breathe.

It wasn’t entirely in sync. She buckled first, moaning her release into the curve of the Faunus’ shoulder, hips jerking at the end of a particularly hard thrust. Head still spinning with the rush, her blood burning white-hot, Yang pinned Blake back against the wall of the shower, swallowing down a gasp as their mouths met in a kiss that made her see stars. A few more seconds of her calloused palm offering hot, quick friction against Blake’s clit, fingers pushing right to the knuckle, and she felt nails rake down her back, the only warning before her partner’s knees gave out completely.

Yang caught her, controlling the descent onto they were both sitting on slick porcelain, limbs awkwardly entwined. There was a whine when she withdrew her fingers, but she wanted to hold Blake’s face, make sure that the Faunus’ head hadn’t clocked against something on the way down.

“You okay?” Yang asked, breathless.

“Better than okay.” Blake tilted her head up for a moment, sputtering when some of the water got into her mouth. “That tequila hits like a bullet train, though.”

“Yeah, I’m not sure I’m going to be standing any time soon now that we’re down here.” She laughed, shifting so her weight was on the floor of the shower instead of Blake’s legs. “I love you, Blake.”

“I love you too.” A smile bared white teeth before the Faunus cupped one of her breasts, giving it a playful squeeze. “Who says we need to be standing?”

Violet eyes lit up. “Race you there.”

Blake gasped the second her fingers found their mark. “Count on it.”


End file.
